2003: Mary Cattermole

Interlude

They've made a decent life for themselves, Mary and Reg. She doesn't get up to many theatrics these days; the Daily Prophet shut down her column on wizarding naturalism to make room for coverage of the war back in '97. So she stays at home, cooks dinner for Reg, writes to the children when they need help with their Arithmancy. Mary can't understand it herself, but she's always had a knack for the subject, even if she did cheat off Marlene until sixth year.

Not often—it's too hard to do it often—she'll take tea with Ver, reminisce about the old days. After, they'll stop at St. Mungo's together, as Ver insists on weekly visits to the half-mad Gilderoy and always bullies Mary into coming along. As soon as she's certain it's not the day that he'll recall either of them from Hogwarts (within five minutes of most visits), she'll leave Ver to her flirting—it's a little sad, Mary thinks, that she never got over him.

She'll roam the halls for a while, putting it off, until finally she'll slip into the Longbottoms' room. Mary never stays for long—it's too hard to see Frank like this, Alice like this—but she'll stroke Alice's thinning hair and pocket the Drooble's wrappers with a loving smile and an aching heart. Sometimes Alice will squeeze her hand so tightly that Mary thinks she must remember, that she's hanging on for dear life, but she knows it's only wishful thinking.

Reg says it aloud one night after one of those visits, curled up beside her in bed. She's in the foggy warmth between dreams and fatigue, and he traces a hand up her side and says, "We've done all right for ourselves, don't you think?"

And all Mary can see is Alice's broken smile and Ver's perpetual simper and the death, every last one: Marlene, James, Lily, Peter (supposedly), Alice (worse), Sirius, Emmeline, Peter (actually), Remus. And she should have told Peter that it didn't have to be like this, and she should have told Lily and James and Alice and Frank that their baby boys were beautiful, and she should have told Remus to wake up and realize that Tonks was half his age—and she should have kept in touch, and she should have warned them to get out of the Order while they could.

She should have stayed and fought and died alongside them.

"Yeah, we've done all right," Mary says, because she's made so many mistakes and she doesn't deserve to be the last one standing. It's too much glory and not enough worth, Merlin knows she doesn't have the stomach for the burden of it, and she'd gladly give her life for one of them to live again.

All right, she tells him, since that's the best she can claim.

Then she realizes—why did it take her so long?—that there's one little thing she can do.

Mary doesn't have to pull many strings to find him—just mentioning that Lily and Alice were old friends is enough. She has two stops to make and starts with the first.

"Harry Potter?" she asks when he answers the door, and he nods, a little dumbstruck. "My name is Mary Macdonald—Cattermole, now."

"I know," he says, and it's her turn not to understand. Harry elaborates, "I was at your hearing back in '98—we made Polyjuice Potion and broke in."

"You were Albert Runcorn," she muses—she's seen him since he became The Boy Who Lived, and she didn't even know it. Snapping herself out of it, she takes a deep breath—it's been twenty-two years since she's revisited her adolescence—and says, "You know, I went to Hogwarts with your mum and dad. Alice too. We were all in the same year in Gryffindor together."

"Mary Macdonald…" Harry murmurs, and Mary cocks an eyebrow.

"I—yes, that's my maiden name. Did—?"

"What?" says Harry distantly. "Oh, I think—I think someone might have mentioned you were friends with my mum. Must've been Hagrid."

It can't have been Hagrid—Mary never knew him well—but she doesn't push the issue. "But you were mates?" Harry's saying now. "With my parents, I mean?"

"I… I suppose we were, for a little while, at least," says Mary. "It was complicated trying to trust people back then, and I was complicated, and everything was so—so codependent. But I think we were. I believed we were, anyway. Maybe in our sixth year, until I quit the Order, and I don't think they ever forgave me after that, but I still… well, I visit Alice."

"I thought my parents didn't join the Order until they'd left Hogwarts. Dumbledore never would have allowed it—"

"And so he wouldn't have, if we hadn't been so foolish." Harry gives her a blank look. "Sit down, Harry. Did anyone—has anyone ever told you that you had a godmother?"

"No," says Harry, startling.

"Yes. Her name was Marlene McKinnon. I was in love with her for a long time, and she was your mother's best friend, and mine too." And Mary starts to talk.

xx

END OF BOOK ONE